


untitled

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 17:38:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8336809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: And in the winter night sky ships are sailing,Looking down on these bright blue city lights.And they won't wait, and they won't wait, and they won't wait.We're here to stay, we're here to stay, we're here to stay.
Howling ghosts – they reappearIn mountains that are stacked with fearBut you're a king and I'm a lionheart.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A76a_LNIYwE





	

**Author's Note:**

> And in the winter night sky ships are sailing,  
> Looking down on these bright blue city lights.  
> And they won't wait, and they won't wait, and they won't wait.  
> We're here to stay, we're here to stay, we're here to stay.
> 
> Howling ghosts – they reappear  
> In mountains that are stacked with fear  
> But you're a king and I'm a lionheart.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A76a_LNIYwE

**DANNY**

 

 My fingers scrabble for the remote through the other miscellaneous shit on the couch. I was up late last night talking to Izzy about my upcoming visit. I think he might be more psyched to see someone not related to him than he is about it being _me_ , per say. Not that I mind, 'cause everyone needs a break from their parents once in a while, right? Or, in Izzy's, case, his aunt, but same diff.

 

 The channel's still on the news, Mom's weird habit of watching it like some kids listen to a lullaby never failing. Sometimes, I catch her passed out on the couch, volume on low. It's annoying.

 

 Right now, the news anchor is talking about the new medicine that's supposed to be coming out today. It's like, a super vaccine, or something? The company that produced it, Halbertic Global Inc., is shipping it Mc-fucking-everywhere, and for this month, it's supposed to be free. I'm probably gonna wait til the last minute to get mine, so the hype dies down a little. I mean, can you imagine the lines? And to get a shot, of all things. Shots are at least ninety percent responsible for all babies crying, at anytime, guaranteed. The other ten is shit.

 

 And, I mean, they think I'm gonna get my lazy ass out of the house on a Saturday? It was hard enough getting out of bed. I bet if they'd released this shit on a Monday, school would be cancelled, but they didn't, because they're dicks. The news finally moves on to something I care about, which is the weather. It's supposed to be sunny all week, which sucks. In third period English Lit, my eyes always gets blinded by the sun, when there is any. It's literally the only class that happens in, which furthers my hypothesis that English Lit is cursed. I'm pretty sure that the teacher, Mr. Faidley, is a witch.

 

 Mom stumbles out into the kitchen, yawning. She opens the fridge and frowns at the emptiness she sees there. 

 

 "There's no more pizza?" Mom asks. We had leftover pizza for dinner last night. 

 

 "No, there was only one more piece, and I had it for breakfast."

 

 "Oh. Can you-"

 

 "Go to the store? Yeah, sure."

 

 "Thanks. You know what we need?" Mom calls from her room. She's getting her purse, I think.

 

 "Uh...Rice, milk, chicken, eggs, and some cans?" We only get canned veggies and fruits, because they're cheaper and easier to make.

 

 "Yeah. We'll go when you get back, 'kay?" Mom hands me her wallet. She would go, but she's super forgetful, which is why we're out of food in the first place. That, and her child support check only comes once a month, so we're not exactly eating like kings right now. The only reason we've got _any_ money right now at _all_ is because Mom's recently started working as a waitress at the diner across the street from our apartment building. The down side of having a dead-beat dad, am I right?

 

"Sure." I shrug on one of the many hoodies I own over my tank top. Comfortable as it is, it's way too cold outside to wear it plain. Slipping my flip flops on, I put Mom's wallet in the back pocket of my jeans.

 

 "Love you!" I yell.

 

 "Love you too!"

 

 Trudging down the street, I regret my choice of  flimsy footwear, but whatever. I'm too lazy to go back now, I'm almost there. 

 

 The best thing about living in a apartment instead of a house, though the cons are many, are hella cool. Everything's super duper close. The nearest Walmart is, like, a five minute walk on a bad day. And it's _way_ easier to clean, because it's smaller.

 

 Inside the store is fucking _freezing_ , holy Jesus dick. It's like they're saying,'why the fuck are you here, get out, fuck you.' That's how cold it is. I practically run through the isles, screeching to a halt at the self check out lane. It's eerie, how empty this place is. If the cashiers weren't here, I'd almost be able think that I'd accidentally stumbled into an abandoned ghost town. Everyone must be at the pharmacy section. What'd I tell you? I'm so glad I decided to wait til later to get my shot. Like, the shots have been out since six a.m., and it's _eleven_ right now.

 

 I drag my feet to the door. God, why did I decide that wearing flip flops was a good idea? I'm tripping over everything. Walking down the sidewalk is hell, the crack warped concrete and litter making every two steps a struggle. I drop one of the plastic bags, swearing as the cans go rolling into the adjacent alley. It's one of the dimmer ones, too. I can barely see most of them, I think they rolled to the other side of the dumpster. Walking carefully past the piles of trash and cardboard towers, I nearly have a heart attack when I realize that I'm not alone. There's a man, hunched over with his back turned to me. He's making these soft, whimpery sounds, and shit, is that blood on his shirt? It's hard to tell in this light, but I think it is. What the fuck?

 

"Dude," I exclaim," Are you alright? Do you want me to call someone?"

 

 His head snaps around, and... Something is wrong with his face. Something is _wrong_. I shudder. This man clearly needs help.

 

 I go to tug my phone out of my back pocket. "I'm gonna call 91-" My head slams into the hard concrete, and the man- _what is wrong with him_ -is straddling me, eyes wide, mouth open, and his teeth- _his teeth,_ they're sharp, so sharp. The gum around them is swollen and infected looking. The hand not pinned under me scrambles for something, anything, he's leaning down over me, shit, shit, _please-_ My fist clenches around something cool and slim, and I swing with every ounce of strength I have in me. He flies off of me, crumpling in a heap a few feet away. I scramble to my feet, grip tight on the, pipe? I stand over him, watching as the daze fades ever so slowly, and I raise the pipe, aiming for his head. I swing down. And I swing. And I swing. When I stop, the man's head is caved in, and I'm shaking. I drop the pipe, fingers aching.

 

 The man's blood is splattered across his face, and I lean in closer. Oh, god. I think I'm gonna be sick. I turn around, retching up the pizza I had had just hours previously. The man's skin was cracked and peeling, not just on his face, but his entire body. I can see muscle, but it's wrong, black and hardened, except where I beat his head in. 

 

 I hurry out of the ally, cans forgotten. My vision is blurry, and I can't breathe, oh god, oh god, oh god, _fuck_. The cool metal of the staircase meets my fingers, and I jerk back. I don't remember most of the walk here. I practicly throw my slf up the stairs, slamming to a stop out side of the apartment.

 

 The sound of the news wafts over me when I open the door. The news isn't on at this time. I make my way into the living room. Ice floods my veins.

 

 "- _no correlation can be made to the vaccine that was released just today, but citizens are urged to report in to the nearest police station if they have gotten it. Again, if you see one of these people,_ do not engage them _. Please stay inside you homes tonight, until further notice. I'm Abigail Martinez with_ -''

 

The T.V. turns off, the picture of a woman who's skin is cracked, revealing the black, hard muscles beneath disappears. 

 


End file.
